


Fall Back Down

by AlynnaStrong



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Babies, F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-22 05:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlynnaStrong/pseuds/AlynnaStrong
Summary: We all know Brienne and Jaime can overcome their differences, but what about his twin?  In a Modern AU, unfortunate circumstances bring the two ladies into one another's orbits.  Can Cersei and Brienne come out of it as friends?  And how will Jaime complicate things this time?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone's ages are a little scrambled. Assume Brienne & Cersei/Jaime are roughly the same age and everyone else is an appropriate age for the roles they're playing. Also, no one is related unless I say so, otherwise the coincidences could get out of hand.
> 
> I had trouble coming up with a title for this, so I decided to do as others do and use a song. Fall Back Down by Rancid is my favorite song about friendship. I love the confidence of it – instead of “I'll be there for you,” it says “You'll be there for me.”

The elderly man stood, a pathetic figure in his shackles and ill-fitting suit. “I wish to make a statement, Your Honor.”

His attorney tugged at his jacket, trying to encourage him to sit.

“That is your right.”

“Your Honor, and guests of the court, especially my former patients, I would like to you know that I had no malicious intent in what I did. In most cases – in fact, I would argue all cases – you are better off than you would have been without the altered treatment. You must understand, in science, experiments are necessary for the advancement of knowledge. Though you did not consent,”

His lawyer scrawled 'STOP TALKING NOW' on a legal pad.

“Your consent was not necessary to me. None of you had the proper scientific minds to comprehend the work I was engaged in. Soon you will see the genius of my design. As the children grow older, they will prove perfect specimens for the advancement of the human race.” He paused to take a breath. His lawyer stood up as if launched from an ejector seat.

“Thank you for you indulgence, Your Honor. We are ready to receive your sentence.”

The judge scowled. “Dr. Qyburn, your egregious conduct violates every code of medical ethics. Were I not bound by the plea agreement, you would never see the outside of the prison walls. As it is, you will surrender your medical license and be confined to the Blacksel Asylum for the Mentally Infirm for a period of not less than one year, until, and I wish to emphasize this, until you have shown full rehabilitation and remorse for your deeds. Sentence to commence immediately.”

 

As Cersei left the courtroom, the hollow feeling she'd nursed all morning did not go away. Dr. Qyburn had paid the proper legal consequences. He would never abuse another patient. The law said it wasn't even his fault; he was insane, and now everyone knew it. Still, he had cost her her marriage and her future, and what did she have to show for it?

Tommen was playing with an older boy, their heads almost touching as they were utterly absorbed in whatever game they were imagining with the daycare center toys. She had to swallow a lump in her throat as her love for him nearly overwhelmed her. Tommen. She had Tommen to show for it. That he wasn't Robert's had destroyed their marriage, but in a sense, wasn't it better that he wasn't the father? Whoever he was, he had to be better than Robert.

There were many children in the court's daycare center that day, and Cersei could see some resemblances between all of them. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she didn't think so. At least the ugly bastard hadn't used his own seed. They were all healthy, beautiful children. As she watched, the larger boy hit Tom over the head with something.

“Gale! Don't hit him. You know better. He's just a little guy.” The speaker was one of the other mothers from the courtroom.

“We're playing knights, Mommy,” the child replied. So they were, dueling with naked Barbie dolls.

Cersei went over to the lady who'd been sitting on a nearby bench. “It's okay. Tom loves to play knights. His fourth birthday is coming up and all he wants is a Nerf sword and shield set. I hear about it every time we drive past the toy store.”

The woman smiled, hard features softening. “I know just the one.”

It was so odd; their children were half-siblings, but they'd never met. “How old is yours?”

“Gale turned three, um...two months ago.”

“Really? He's huge.”

“She, and well, so am I.”

She looked a little embarrassed, so Cersei tried to smooth over any offense. “Sorry, it's been an awkward day. I'm Cersei Baratheon. That's Tom.”

“It's fine. She is huge. You should see her growth chart – 99th percentile since she was born. Brienne Tarth, and Gale.” She stood and held out her hand. As her legs unfolded, Cersei could see where not-so-little Gale got her size.

Their kids had wide, matching grins, though Gale was clearly getting the better of Tom in the duel.

“It's nice to see them playing so well together,” Brienne said. “Today has been sort of strange, hasn't it? It's finally over, but nothing has changed. There's no fixing it or making it the way it should have been. But then, I wouldn't trade her for the world.”

“I was thinking nearly the exact same thing earlier.”

“You know, it's not easy to find someone to talk to about this. Would you and Tom and your husband like to come over for dinner tonight? It would be nice to hash it out with someone.”

“Ah, well, I'm afraid the senator isn't available.”

“Oh my god, Baratheon. I hadn't put it together.” A flush spread across Brienne's face. “It's just as well; I only cook kids' food, and I'm not even very good at that.”

Another reason to resent Robert; he made it impossible to meet new people. Cersei always feared they were playing at some angle these days. Now she'd embarrassed this very nice lady who'd only wanted to talk. Truth be told, Cersei would rather not retreat to the silence of their sterile hotel room tonight.

“I just meant Robert's out of town, but Tom and I would love to come. It sounds delightful.”

 

Brienne greeted Cersei and Tom when they arrived for dinner. Her home was a large Colonial style, set well back from the street and screened by mature foliage. She had changed into causal clothing that suited her much better than the dress from earlier. She looked far more at ease in her own territory, if a bit overworked.

“You certainly didn't have to bring wine,” Brienne said.

“After the day we've had? Of course I did.”

From the living room, Gale yelled, “Tom! Come see my room!”

“Dinner's in...oh dear, I have no idea. I forgot to set a timer. Come on in; make yourself at home.”

The kids ran upstairs while Brienne struggled not to ruin dinner. Cersei took a quick survey, trying not to be too nosy. There were some messy areas with toys strewn about, but overall the interior was austere and under-decorated. Even a recent move didn't explain how so few possessions were supposed to fill such a large house.

“Is it just you and Gale here tonight?”

“Just us every night. I'm not married or...seeing anyone. Too busy working.”

“Oh, what do you do?” Cersei couldn't imagine having a child by herself. Her family and social circle would never let her live it down. Brienne didn't seem reckless, though. The furthest thing from it, really.

“I inherited by father's security company, Evenstar. We make home security systems. Lately, we're branching out into smart systems and computer security. It was a scramble to have a smooth transition when he passed. A few years later, I came up for air and realized I was 32 with no family. Figured it was then or never.”

“Oh, I know Evenstar. I use Evenstar. You're very good.” And very rich. Not Lannister or Baratheon rich, but it explained the house, at least.

“Thank you. Hang on and I'll get the kids. I think we're all set.”

Some women claimed not to be able to cook, and then you arrive at their home to find freshly baked bread and sauce from Grandma's secret recipe simmering on the stove. Brienne was not one of those women. She served a three ingredient salad, garlic bread made from hotdog rolls, boxed spaghetti and pasta sauce from a jar. The kids didn't care, gobbling it all down like the rapidly growing beasts they were, and Cersei was relieved to see a core of honesty in her new acquaintance.

 

After dinner, the kids ran off to play again, while Brienne and Cersei broke out the wine.

“Did you just move in?” Cersei indicated some flattened moving boxes. “Isn't this a lot of house for the two of you?”

“Once the trial made the papers, I...I wanted to move. I know that may seem silly, but I could feel the neighbors looking at us, or I thought I could. I wanted a fresh start.”

Cersei nodded encouragingly. She knew the exact feeling. “Us, too.”

“I was a motivated buyer, I guess you'd say. I have a lot of money saved, and this is a great school district. I thought I could use the extra rooms to field test some of our new security systems.”

“Oh, as a business expense. That's smart.”

“No, I just...thought it would be useful so I bought it.”

“If you really use it for testing, you can deduct at least some of it.”

“Deduct my house? That sounds dubious.”

“I promise. Ask your tax attorney.”

Brienne put down her wineglass. She'd been drinking too fast to settle her social anxiety, and she could already feel it. How she could be such a lightweight at her size, she never understood. “Did you say you moved as well?”

“In a way. We're living at the Maidenvault hotel. Don't laugh; it's very nice, dumb name and all.” Cersei hesitated a moment. Brienne was a good listener and didn't seem to be a gossip. Frankly, she wanted to confide in someone. “My husband walked out on us when we discovered Tom wasn't his. Oh, don't look so shocked. We've kept it out of the papers, but our marriage is effectively over. Once the trial got press, I moved out. Like you said, it felt like everyone was judging me.”

“But you had nothing to do with it! Dr. Qyburn confessed.”

“As Robert sees it, he's the victim. He was going to run for president, but now, with the scandal, he can't. Poor Robert. He's off to Africa, fact-finding for some commission or another. He'll divorce me next year, probably. That way, he can have a proper family all ready in five years.”

“That's appalling! He's a pig. And a hypocrite.” Brienne refilled her wineglass out of a need to settle herself down. “What about 'Working together to put families over politics,' wasn't that his slogan?”

“Yes, well, it was more like 'Working with lobbyists to screw families and then whores.' But I'm not bitter.”

“It sounds like you're well rid of him. And you'll have money from the civil settlement to make a clean break.”

Cersei waved it off. “Oh, money was never the problem. My father is all 'My dear, what will the fellows at the club think? This simply isn't done, young lady.' Yes, he still calls me...well, so I disgraced my family, lost my husband, and got a beautiful son out of it. How did it go for you?”

Brienne winced. “I hate to say so after that, but for me it probably worked out for the best. I had asked an old friend of mine to be the donor. He's gay, and I convinced him to do it by a hair's breadth. I don't think his boyfriend liked the idea. Truth be told, I understand why; he thinks I'm hung up on Renly. And that's not, like, 1000% wrong. I've had a bit of a crush on him since I was a girl.”

Brienne could feel the flush on her cheeks from the wine, but it was helping her tell her story. After Cersei's she wanted to open up. “I know there's no changing who he is. But still, he's so handsome, and charming. It's hard not to imagine...anyway. When Gale was born she had this fuzz of blonde hair like mine. Renly's hair is pitch black, so already it didn't seem right. As she got a little older, you could see there was really no resemblance at all. Well, it was trivial to get the gene tests done. Sure enough, he wasn't the father. I think he and Loras were both relieved, to be honest.”

“Wait, so were you one of the first to be sure?”

“I was the first. I went to Dr. Qyburn, thinking it was an honest mistake. I just wanted some information. You know, the father's medical history and that kind of thing. If he'd been sane enough to pass off a decent lie, it probably would have ended there. No one was more surprised than me when he hired a lawyer and started shredding medical records.

“It turns out, he shouldn't have experimented on someone who owns her own security company. I have this hacker – she likes be be called an information specialist, but whatever, she'll always be a pirate – who designs our firewall products. I'm forever reminding her to focus on defense, that her only job is to protect our customers. I let her loose to attack Qyburn's computer systems. I thought she was going to kiss me on the mouth. She had it all in a couple of days. The same donor used not just for me, but for damn near everyone. We turned it over to the police. They couldn't use it directly, but it was enough for a warrant.

“So, in conclusion, I'm sorry?” Brienne said with a tentative smile.

Cersei surprised her with an enveloping hug. “Thank you,” she said, pulling back. “I hadn't realized how miserable life had become with Robert. It's like a weight has lifted. No, more like the jaws of a trap unexpectedly opened. Tom and I are going to be fine. You did the right thing.”

 

Over the next few weeks, the two small families had several playdates together. They shared meals, with cuisine oscillating wildly from chicken nuggets at Brienne's to private rooms at some of the nicer restaurants in the city. Cersei met Pod, Brienne's overeager assistant. She laughed every time Brienne would casually sling a bag onto his shoulder that nearly brought him to the ground. Her nanny, Syrio, seemed an odd choice, but she explained that Gale had bonded with him and wouldn't hear of anyone else.

For Tom's birthday, Gale gave him a helmet to match the sword and shield set from his mother. He announced then that he loved Gale and was going to marry her. The panicked laughter from both his and his friend's mother was a little confusing to the freshly minted 4-year old.

One night while feasting on room service from the Maidenvault, Brienne made the offer. “This is silly. You and Tom living out of suitcases when I have a giant house almost empty. Move in with us. Even if you don't count the gym and my office, there are three empty bedrooms.”

You're supposed to refuse, and then they re-offer, and then you conditionally accept...somehow Cersei didn't think she had to do the dance with Brienne. Hell, it'd probably backfire. Brienne just means what she says, and expects everyone else does too. It was weird, but becoming more and more comfortable.

“Sure, if you're serious.”

Brienne smiled hugely. “I was afraid you were going to say no, and then I never know if I'm supposed to offer again-”

“But,” Cersei broke in, “you have to let me pay all the utilities and the nanny. I'd offer rent, but from a tax perspective, it's easier. You wouldn't have to count it as income.”

“How do you know all this tax stuff? You were right about the house, by the way.” She was going to get a refund this year. Her attorney was cross with her for not mentioning it earlier.

“Oh, Robert hasn't had to pay a penny in years. I've learned all the dodges he uses. Do you know my old backyard is technically a rice farm? It's true; we get subsidies.”

“You're killing this poor liberal's faith in government.”

“Sorry. There will always be cheaters. There are good people too though; thanks for reminding me.”

Cersei had hired movers to transport her and Tom's furniture from her old home and checked out of the Maidenvault by the end of the week. She didn't actually have to speak with her father to hear him yelling at her for being impulsive; she had plenty of memories to fall back on. He would want her to stay put and wait for him to find some pressure to put on Robert. Sure, it'd make their loveless marriage that much more resentful, but there would be no scandal. The worst part was, if it had just been her, she'd probably have done it. Tom, however, deserved so much better.

 

“If you want my advice,” Brienne had had enough wine to give advice, “I think you should file for divorce. Being the one to call an end to it will be...empowering for you.”

“And emasculating for him,” Cersei quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “You wouldn't want me to do that while I'm living here, though. I can just imagine the headlines: 'Senator's wife in love nest with Evenfall CEO – 2 kids, 2 cars, 1 bed?'” Cersei projected her voice in a perfect imitation of the _Celebrity Stalker_ announcer.

Brienne laughed it off. “We'll just say we're old friends. From college.”

“I didn't go to college. I did a tour of Europe, then had a whirlwind romance with Robert.” In truth, her father had set them up. She'd been sent to Europe mainly as a way to stall until she turned 20 so that Robert wouldn't be marrying a teenager. Their engagement had felt uncomfortably like an order at first, though Robert did have a certain animal magnetism. Their marriage had soured as the years went by with no children. In desperation, they'd turned to medical assistance.

“Oh, I know. We'll say we met at our kid's playgroup.”

“Yes, the separated wife and the single mom bond over their cute kids. I'm pretty sure that's already a Lifetime movie called _Her Lavender Awakening_.”

“Cersei, I don't care. It doesn't matter to me what anyone else thinks.”

“I've noticed. It's annoying how you manage to do that.”

“I can give lessons. Take off all you makeup, put on a track suit, and go to the grocery store. Buy us an extra large pack of condoms, some enemas, adult diapers, and vanilla ice cream.”

“Oh no! I think I need to start at the beginner level. Can I just buy some trashy magazines?”

“And vanilla ice cream. We're out.”

“I think I will,” Cersei said.

Brienne looked up. She'd said that way too seriously to be talking about ice cream.

“File for divorce. I think I will.”

“Good.” Brienne tried to project strength towards her friend. “No one gets to treat you that way ever again.”

 

Cersei had finished decorating her and Tom's rooms some time ago. Finally, with Brienne's encouragement, she'd started to branch out into the rest of the house. She'd moved in some furniture from her and Robert's former home, ordered new curtains, and put up some nice paintings. She placed a few family photos around, mostly in her own room, but her very favorite she'd put on a side table in the living room.

“Who's the little girl?” Brienne asked, noticing it for the first time.

Cersei looked at her in confusion.

“Obviously that's Tom, but who's the little girl? Is she one of, y'know, the other kids?”

Cersei examined the picture, expression drifting from amusement to concern to abstract horror.

“What?” Brienne gave a light laugh, trying to break Cersei's mood. Whatever train of thought she was on was clearly running out of control.

“My brother. That's me and my twin brother.”

“Oh, okay. Sure, I see it now.” Brienne could totally see that little girl growing up to be Cersei. What she didn't understand was why Cersei still looked so upset.

“Do you know my brother – Jaime Lannister – is his name familiar?”

It did ring a bell, but Brienne couldn't quite place it. She shook her head.

“He was a quarterback with Detroit for two years. They did very well under him. Odds-on favorites for the championship. Then he got caught doping; testosterone, HGH, other steroids. Not only was his career over, but it cost the team their season. All their records, erased.”

“I remember now,” Brienne said simply. Football wasn't her favorite sport, but the Lannister disgrace had been in the headlines for weeks about a decade ago. She remembered the calls for new testing standards, his teammate's harsh condemnations, and the handsome man in the middle of it all trying and failing to explain himself.

“I love my brother, and I'm not trying to pretend he didn't make a mistake. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't been on that stuff since high school. Our father pushed him very hard to be exceptional. He paid for it, is all I'm saying, and he kept paying for it.

“The year we turned 30, he came down with testicular cancer. That's a common side-effect of the drugs. It's treatable with medicine and radiation, but the doctors said it would probably sterilize him. So beforehand, he stored some sperm, quite a lot of sperm, with Dr. Qyburn.”

Brienne could finally see the outline of the story Cersei was telling herself. “Cersei, that is a big, big conclusion to jump to.”

“You said it yourself. That's Tom. Look, here are a bunch more.” Cersei grabbed a photo album from the bookshelf and fanned it under Brienne's nose. Brienne saw a lot of that little boy, even watched him age to a middle schooler.

“Calm down. We don't know anything for sure. We can have tests done, whatever you like.”

Cersei's face crumpled, unable to hold back the tears any longer.

“Cersei, remember, no matter what happens, Tom is still Tom. And he is perfect.” Blue eyes burned into green begging for her trust.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Calm. Cool. Collected. That was the goal. Brienne had done everything she could to keep stress and chaos at bay on the day Cersei's brother Jaime was to arrive. The house was clean. The kids were at the zoo with Syrio. Pod had been instructed to pass off all work matters until the morning, up to and including if their headquarters burned down.

Brienne was still a nervous wreck inside. She was going to meet Gale's father for the first time...it was so weird! Never mind that he was a handsome former athlete. Never mind that his name was synonymous with disgrace for a lot of people. They had a child together and had literally never been in the same room. It was just awkward. And, in a part of her mind she tried never to give conscious voice to, she knew he never would have approached her, even for a one-night stand.

Cersei was Brienne's priority, though. If it was awkward having a child with a stranger, it was devastating to have one with your beloved twin brother. Cersei's initial shock and grief had been the rawest, most terrifying emotions Brienne had ever witnessed. Tarths tended to be on the non-demonstrative side, as showing weakness wasn't good business for a security professional. They took ill news, even death, in stride and mourned privately. The complete, public, loss of control that Cersei displayed was thus all the more heightened in Brienne's eyes. Cersei had spent days alternating between gut-wrenching crying jags to blind rages against Qyburn to spine-chilling laughing spells.

Doing the only thing she could, Brienne fell back on her old sober coach training and followed Cersei everywhere the weekend after they received the DNA results. She never seemed suicidal, but a lot of them don't, right up until they try. Brienne kept track of her alcohol consumption, made sure she ate, and most of all, mentioned how much Tom needed her. Whenever Cersei would try to send her away, she would go for about five minutes, then return as if she'd forgotten something. In Cersei's distracted state of mind, it worked, and Brienne maintained a stolid presence absorbing whatever came her way.

Cersei started to catch on by Monday, when Brienne told Pod to cancel all her meetings so she could work from home. She insisted Brienne go in, and when she still balked, compromised. Cersei would stay home, with the unspoken understanding that Syrio wasn't only watching the two kids that day. Syrio turned out to be charming and urbane, especially for someone who mainly dealt with the under-10 set. The highlight of her day was playing the monster for Tom and Gale to attack with their nerf swords. She roared and stomped down buildings made of blocks. It was brainless, glorious fun. Cersei smiled more that evening, and by the end of the week, Brienne felt that she'd crossed some border into acceptance.

 

The doorbell rang. Terror tried to claw its way into Brienne's heart, but she forced it back down. _You are not the one with the biggest problems. Be there for your friend._

“I'll get it,” Cersei said, surprising her. A positive sign, Brienne thought, that she wants to greet him, rather than shy away from him.

Brienne tried to find something to tidy or straighten as Cersei opened the door. She was suddenly at a loss with what to do with her hands as the most handsome man she'd ever seen entered her house. He was far more attractive in person. He resembled Cersei to be sure, but at some point they'd gone in opposite directions. Neither was at all androgynous – Cersei a beautiful woman, and Jaime a ridiculously good-looking man. He had alert, intelligent eyes that swept across the room, pausing at Brienne and seeming to x-ray her. Brienne felt herself start to blush even as she reminded herself that some of his perfect masculinity was chemically sculpted.

He spoiled it all by opening his mouth, naturally.

Pointing at Brienne, he said, "This is your housemate? Really?"

He approached her with mock confusion on his face. “You've given birth to a child, right? Cersei said you're one of the ones from the trial. So you were born a woman? Wouldn't have been my first guess.”

“Jaime, this is Brienne,” Cersei's voice was slightly squeaky in horror at his behavior, “she's been very generous to me.”

“I'll bet she has. Taken you in. Kept you warm. Shared all her toys.”

“I'll go get the papers,” Brienne said, leaving the room before she started a fight. She wanted to get up in the arrogant prick's face and let him know what she thought of his insinuations, but she had to make nice today. They were about to break some devastating news to him, after all. Still, she allowed herself a moment to gloat that Tarth DNA apparently outstripped steroidal technology. She was both taller and broader than him. Cersei wouldn't appreciate any impromptu kickboxing demonstrations today, however.

She could hear them whisper-shouting three rooms away. Cersei was demanding an apology while Jaime kept finding new features of Brienne's to comment on and declare unsuitable. He was...thorough and observant, she had to give him that. Brienne returned with their slim folder of evidence and the pictures that made the case just as well. When she entered the living room, the twins were exchanging matching glares which, under other circumstances, would have been cute.

“My sister says you aren't dating anyone, including her. Is that right?”

“Yes. Got it? So can you please listen to what we have to say?”

“I'm sorry I was rude, then. I thought you were taking advantage of her, and I went into defensive brother mode.” He actually did look contrite. “She'd told me all about this arrangement,” he gestured to encompass the house, “and I assumed you had to be getting something from the deal.”

Brienne bit her tongue. Again, this was not the time...

“You don't look crazy. And I can't imagine why any sane person would invite Cersei Baratheon nee Lannister to live with them. She'll leave the lights on, hog the blankets, and eat all your ice cream.”

Dear God, he could turn the charm on like a switch. Brienne tried to remind herself how offensive he'd been just a moment ago, but it was all fading away in his twinkling emerald eyes. Gale's eyes. Tom's eyes.

“Um, well, the lights are on a smart system, I'd have no idea about the blankets, but yes, the ice cream is becoming an issue.”

Cersei smiled at the reducing tensions and walked over to stand between them. “Brienne has done a lot to keep me sane since we discovered what's in these papers. Jaime, you remember all the...material Dr. Qyburn collected before your treatment. You even made jokes speculating what he was doing with it instead of freezing it.”

Brienne pulled out the page summarizing her medical records from Qyburn's clinic. “This is me, and see here it says the donor is number CIT1041? Cross reference that with this,” she handed over another list marked CONFIDENTIAL that correlated names to numbers. CIT1041 translated to J T Lannister. “I shouldn't have that, so don't ask how I got it. You can see the truth anyway, in this.” She pointed out a photograph. “My daughter, Gale.”

“I'm – I'm your child's father?” He examined the picture more closely. He could see it. Yes, he could definitely see it. “I don't know what to say.”

“It's fine. I don't, you know, want anything from you. We just thought-”

“I'd want know. I do. I'm so sorry I misinterpreted this.” It all made sense now. They had somehow gotten this information. Brienne is obviously a little shy, so she asked for Cersei's help. It was sweet, really. Cersei even has a little niece now that she can dress up like a princess. They could discuss how involved he would be, but-

“There's more.”

“Oh. Okay?”

“There are a lot more,” Brienne spread out the hacked medical records all showing donor CIT1041. “Twenty three more.” Cersei took a deep breath and made a fist. Brienne covered it with her own huge hand, and Jaime again wasn't so sure they weren't dating. He disapproved less.

Cersei pointed at one of the files, with her name at the top. Donor = CIT1041. “Including Tom,” she said.

Jaime shook his head, trying to flatly reject what he'd just heard. Brienne brought out the DNA tests they'd had done on the kids.

“For Gale, at 99 point a bunch of nines percent probability, you're her father. For Tom, there are even more nines because you have so many markers in common. Some of them came from Cersei, but the test doesn't know that.

“The genetic counselor was very kind. She said, even with siblings, if there are no genetic disorders in your family – and there's not – he will be completely healthy and normal. I know it's a shock, but your nephew is fine.”

“My nephew. Is that what he is? My-”

“Nephson,” Cersei said with a strained laugh. Brienne gave her hand a squeeze. That had been one of Cersei's jokes that triggered those disturbing laughing fits over the weekend.

 

Jaime needed most of the day to get his head around the facts he'd had to absorb. They still managed to catch him by surprise, though. He'd be concentrating on acknowledging that Tom was his son and a product of incest. Then, the idea that Tom wasn't his only child; there were two dozen in total, would hit him. He'd been so careful not to impregnate any of the fans who'd come back to his hotel rooms, but he may as well not have bothered. Then, fine, he'd spread his seed, but good lord, one of the recipients was the homely giant who was not (?) fucking his sister. His sister, Tom's mother...

His stomach cramped when he heard the door bang open and the sound of little feet running toward the family room.

The little girl ran in, though like with her mother, 'girl' wouldn't necessarily have been Jaime's first guess. She wore a Star Wars t-shirt with blue shorts, and her hair was an unruly bob. She talked non-stop as her mother tried to clean errant chocolate stains from her mouth.

“Who's that?” Gale asked.

“That's Cersei's brother, Jaime,” Brienne replied since they hadn't gotten around to talking about what to tell the children yet.

“Hiya!” Gale ran to Jaime who, startled, picked her up and listened to her babble about her day. “We saw zebras, and giraffes, and I petted a goat. Tom saw a goat too, and it eated grass out of his hand and then pooped little beads.”

“She's very friendly,” Brienne said. “Far more extroverted than anyone else in my family.”

“She's big for her age,” Jaime said simply. He could see himself in her even more easily in person; were they all like that? It was overwhelming.

Brienne was primed to take that as a insult, but he had tears in his eyes as he said it. “Yeah. That's the way it is,” she replied, wishing she'd been born with Cersei's eloquence.

He turned back to the little girl in his arms. “My favorite was always the lions. Did you see them?”

“Yeah, they just layed there. They were boring. But the elephants could pick up peanuts with their long noses.”

Syrio walked in with Tom over his shoulder. “He fall asleep in the car, but I am thinking he will be all perky again by dinner.”

Cersei thanked Syrio and carried Tom over to Jaime and Gale. Tom opened his sleepy eyes and smiled to see his uncle holding his best friend. “Will you play knights with us until dinner, Uncle Jaime?”

 

“It's a shame she didn't get your eyes,” Jaime said. After dinner, Cersei's friend had put the kids to bed then left them alone to talk. It was the sort of subtle kindness not often seen in his family. He'd resolved to try get to know her better and searched until he found her reading in the screened 3-season room.

“Huh?” Brienne was startled to be pulled out of the sprawling fantasy world she'd been enthralled in, back to her home, now alone for the first time with Cersei's intimidatingly handsome brother.

“Gale got stuck with my eyes. I've never seen your color blue before. It's gorgeous.”

“Th-thanks. The green is pretty too, though.” Brienne was so unused to receiving compliments about her appearance she didn't know how to react. Jaime sat beside her on the wicker sofa, his legs brushing past hers. _Ooh, finally touched the father of my child._ She nearly giggled at the absurdity.

“You two really aren't dating? I'm sorry I was a jerk before. I swear won't react badly again if you are.”

“No. I know how it looks, but I'm as straight as she is.”

Jaime considered briefly. “You've fucked at least one woman, then.”

Brienne's eyes went wide, but she made no comment.

“What? She didn't tell you about her time in Italy?” His teasing eyes revealed a playful sense of humor. Apparently this wasn't a deep, dark secret.

“It's none of my business. Okay, I'm even straighter. It doesn't matter anyway.”

“What? You've given up on love?” he joked, having no idea that he was precisely correct.

“I have Gale to watch over. And even without a kid, I didn't exactly need to chase away guys with a stick.”

“I should hope not. Unarmed you'd scare the shit out of anyone.” He butted his shoulder against hers and was rewarded with a wry smile.

Brienne considered for a moment and decided it was worth bringing up. “Hey, I know you love your sister, but did you realize you hurt her feelings earlier today? You implied I couldn't want anything from her except for, y'know, sex. She has so many other talents. I mean, there's no denying, for both of you, some version of 'gorgeous' is the first adjective that comes to mind. It's just that I know all about snap judgments, looking how I look. I'm sure if someone had asked me as a teenager, I'd have traded places with her in an instant. I can see, though, that having everything start and stop with her body has killed her confidence. Her husband, her father, everyone on down has said she's only good for appearance and social graces. Oh, and having children, of course. You can be better than them.”

Jaime stood up, trying not to show how pissed off he was at the judgmental busy-body. He'd tried to be friends and she'd decided to have a go at his entire family. He nodded at her, acting like her was taking her apt counsel under advisement and stormed away. Much later, and after actually taking her advice under consideration, he'd reflect that this was the moment he fell in love.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The papers arrived by FedEx. A slender package, but it made Cersei's stomach drop to see Robert's attorney as the sender and herself at this address as the recipient. So Robert knew where she'd moved; he'd been keeping tabs on her. Likely that didn't bode well for his response to the divorce filing. She read through the documents and realized that she'd need to share them with Brienne and Jaime so they could plan their next moves.

After dinner and bedtime for the kids, Cersei brought them all up to speed.

“Robert has decided to take the hard way with the divorce. He won't agree to my having sole custody of Tommen. He knows I'd give him anything else to keep this uncontested. I'd even pay him alimony. But no, he wants my son. The son he left me over, by the way.”

“Can he even do that?” Brienne asked.

“He's on Tom's birth certificate as his father, so yes, technically he's within his rights. He doesn't want to be a father to him, though. He's just tormenting me.”

“I don't like that he knows where you live,” Jaime said. “What if I move into the guest room for a while? I could keep an eye out for strangers in the neighborhood and watch over the house while you're away.”

“We have a state of the art security system,” Brienne reminded him.

“Plus, I can cook better than Sasquatch here.”

“Jaime!” Cersei protested.

 _She would feel better having her twin nearby. He's not that annoying._ “It's no skin off my back if you want to stay in the guest room,” Brienne relented. “But what I don't understand is why Robert would draw it out? I would think he'd want it behind him.”

“He needs to find a way to cast himself as the victim. He'll be investigating you, be sure of that.” Cersei had up until now respected Brienne's private nature, but there was something she really needed to know. Apologetically, she asked, “Have you ever had a girlfriend? I only ask because if you have, she's about to become national news. That would be absolutely perfect for him.”

“No, you're in the clear on that one. 100% extra vi-... not gay.” She hoped Cersei was distracted enough that she'd missed her over-sharing moment there. “Hey, maybe you should fight fire with fire. If you want, come in to the office with me tomorrow. I'll introduce you to the hacker that got me Qyburn's files.”

“You're on. I like the idea of going on offense.” Wanting to miss nothing, Cersei took the legal papers into her room to give them a closer read.

  
  


Brienne gathered up the dishes. No wine tonight, she noted approvingly. Cersei was handling this latest setback like a champ.

“You are not really a virgin,” Jaime scoffed, right when she thought she'd gotten away clean.

 _Of course, he had to catch it._ “I do not discuss my personal life with nosy frauds.”

“Ouch. You came to play tonight.” They had a banter session nearly every time he visited. He judged that he usually got the best of it, but she always got her licks in. “Alright, what kind of religion are you and Gale going to start then, Virgin Mother? Will your followers have to wear pantsuits, or is that optional? Readings from the sacred text of _The Smith and Wesson Catalog_? Holy communion with spaghetti sauce and garlic bread?”

“Oh that's very nice. Don't you take anything seriously?”

“Not something as ridiculous as sex. But really, who was your last long-term relationship? Do we have him to thank for your sparkling social skills?”

“He was a very nice man. Tall, strong, bright red hair.” _Supergay._

“Gingers. They don't have souls. What were you thinking? Next.”

“You know, this is zero percent your business. I have had other admirers though – all of them male.”

“Sure. Lots of guys love a big, strong hunk. You're missing a vital piece, though.”

She sighed. He was too damn close to the mark there. Three. Three men had been entirely pleased with her when the clothes were on, but balked at taking the final plunge. All three now happily living their true selves with their husbands.

“You're not entirely wrong, though there was also the one who only wanted me for my money. If I just wanted sex, I could...but I want...” _What are you doing, getting into deep feelings with this guy who is only going to use it to find worse names to call you? No point in asking him to keep his mouth shut, even._ “I'm going to check on the kids,” she said, always a convenient excuse to leave a room.

She fled, completely defeated. Jaime wondered how he had won that one; they'd barely gotten started. He wasn't entirely insensitive; if relationships were a sensitive topic for her, he could respect that. He couldn't have any fun if she was going to look so sad afterwards. She was like a muppet, her frown took over her whole face. It was only when he was packing his bags back at his hotel that it occurred to him – might she not have been kidding?

  
  


“Cersei Lannister, this is Yara Greyjoy. You know how Yara helped us with Qyburn. No need rehash any incriminating details.” The scrappy information specialist grinned around a craft services cookie. It wasn't every day her straight-laced boss set up a clearly off the books meeting for what she'd been reminded several times was not in her job description.

“Yara, Cersei is a friend of mine. We could really use some in depth research on her behalf.”

“Yeah, okay. In depth research. On what?”

“My husband, Robert Baratheon,” Cersei spoke up. “He's a politician, so you'll have a glut of material. You'll also find women, whores. I'm not interested in prurient details. I'm looking for proof of illegal activity. For him, I would look financial. He hates paying taxes so much you'd think they took them out of his flesh. That's not sexy, but if he thought the custody fight would bring a levy of back taxes, he might give up.”

“Custody battles; those are the worst. Okay. Give me a few days and I'll let you know how it's looking. What's your address?”

“I live with Brienne, so you can give whatever you have to her.”

Yara's head turned to find Brienne as if magnetically drawn. There was a weird power shift in the room whereby the small woman wearing a black t-shirt with a cartoon logo was silently demanding explanations from her suddenly flustered boss.

“I meant your email, but let's put a pin in that for now. You're living together?”

“Yes, but that has nothing to do with this,” Brienne replied about as meekly as Cersei had ever heard her. She hadn't told Yara because she knew she'd get the wrong idea and be distracted. Now it looked like she'd been hiding it on purpose. Sometimes being an honest but private person really bit you in the ass.

“So she was the reason Pod threatened to break my fingers if I called the other night?”

“It was a, um,” Brienne was going to say 'personal matter' until she realized how that sounded.

“No, I completely get it. Totally. Firewall protocols could wait until morning, for sure.” The way Yara was nodding, the wrong impression train had well left the station.

“Go; do your thing. Try to keep it legal.”

“I'll have a preliminary report for you tomorrow, boss.” Yara said striving for maturity. “No wonder you've been in such a good mood,” she added, putting a dent in her professionalism. Finally, she quickly mouthed “She's gorgeous,” at Brienne as she exited, ruining it entirely.

“I'm sorry. Inappropriate doesn't begin to describe her. She's can get anywhere, though.” _Damn it, Greyjoy, now even that sounds dirty._

“It's fine; she's just a kid.”

“No, no. She's older than we are. She just dresses like a college intern.” Brienne paused to rub her temples. “Denying it now would make it worse, right?”

“Unprompted? Definitely.” Cersei considered. “Here's what you should do. Tell Pod. He looks like a gossip to me. Make up a boyfriend, tell him about it, and it'll be all over the building in 24 hours.”

That might work for most topics, but sadly, Brienne thought Pod knew her well enough not to believe she suddenly found success with a mystery man.

  
  


Jaime had been staying in her guest room for three days. Which was...fine. They'd gotten along better since he moved in. He still bickered with her on a nightly basis, but it'd stayed impersonal. He'd have at her for her taste in sports teams or clothes. It was almost like he'd listened. Brienne had just hoped she'd have the house to herself for a couple of hours. She had an urgent need to punch the stuffing out of her heavy bag and maybe cry a little.

“Hey Shehemoth, you're home early,” he greeted her from the family room sofa. His ever-present laptop was open. Doing make-work for the Lannister Foundation, she supposed. Must be nice to have your salary effectively be an allowance from your father well into your thirties.

“Yeah,” she said, not wanting to get into it. Just let him sit there for another minute while she grabbed her gym clothes.

“Aren't you up on your cartoons?” He'd vaulted over the couch to come tease her. “Shehemoth is from one of the kids' favorites. She's this big, hulking giant, dim-witted, always breaks everything. She-”

“Can you not start with me today, please?”

That wasn't fair. He wasn't trying to start an argument. He was just playfully trash-talking her like he always did. She enjoyed it, didn't she?

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I just cursed out a pediatrician. I'll probably be hearing some of those words back from my impressionable daughter over the next few weeks, so that'll be fun for everyone.”

Jaime highly doubted it was as bad as all that. About the worst profanity he'd heard from her so far was a mumbled 'goddamnit'. No, wait, she'd called him an asshole once. But it'd been late, she'd had some wine, and he was being pretty...provocative.

“What did you say?” he chuckled.

“I, um, told him to go to hell. And that as far as I was concerned, he could cram his goddamned hormone therapy as well as his entire fucking practice up his ass.”

Jaime's eyes went wide and he gave an approving nod. “Sounds like you had a point to make.”

“I may have overreacted.”

“That doesn't sound like you. Maybe back up a bit?”

“Gale's doctor wanted to put her on growth hormone blockers. Otherwise, she might end up like me or even taller, he said, right to my face. Right in front of Gale. She hasn't even had a growth spurt this year, but the earlier they start the treatment, the more successful it could be. Like, he thinks she couldn't possibly end up happy if she's taller than 5'8''.

“Anyway, I suppose I'll have to call them in the morning. Apologize.” She growled the last word.

“Fuck that. I'm sure Cersei found the best pediatrician in the country for Tom. Probably flies them in for appointments. We'll get you on their service.”

“I'll think about it. For now I just want to go punch things until I feel better.”

“You could try to punch me instead.”

“Don't tempt me.”

“You could try, I said. Taekwondo, second dan.”

“Kickboxing.”

“Let's see how they match up.”

Pretty well, it turned out. They lost track of time as they dodged, kicked, punched, and tumbled. Jaime had to admit to getting more distracted as time went on, though. The sweatier and more vicious she looked, the more trouble he had concentrating. _Did not realize that was a turn-on. Huh._

Their bout was cut shorter than intended by an urgent message from Evenstar. Brienne reluctantly grabbed her towel, pounding Jaime on the shoulder on the way out. “I think I needed that. I've got to shower and go into the office now. Yara's finally got something.”

“Want some company in the shower?” he flirted reflexively. He couldn't help it; it just popped out of his mouth. It was seeing her fight that did it. Fight for his sister, fight for her daughter, kick his own ass. That kind of strength was rare and special, inspiring him to cull his weaknesses.

“Not this time,” she said, paused for a second, then rushed to the bathroom. _What the hell did I mean by that? Not this time?_

_Sweet. Remember to ask next time._

  
  


Cersei waited in Brienne's office, amusing herself by observing Pod. She'd been right about him. Though he was fairly diligent about doing his work, whenever he had a spare moment he was chatting with co-workers. Brienne apparently hadn't gotten around to inventing a boyfriend yet, as she caught several references to 'Ms. Tarth's housemate' said in a neutral but knowing tone. She knew Brienne had arrived when she heard him say that her friend was waiting inside. Couldn't she hear how he said 'friend'? _She hears; she doesn't care,_ Cersei reminded herself. After being around politicians all her life, that was hard to get used to.

“Sorry I'm late. What should have been Gale's yearly checkup turned into a shouting match. I'll tell you about it later.”

“No problem. I've been kept waiting longer for much pettier reasons.” She noticed a fresh bruise on Brienne's cheek. “Was it just yelling or did you get in a fight with him? If he started it, you should press charges.”

Brienne touched her face. “No, that was your brother.”

“What!?”

“We were sparring. He's quicker than I thought. My fault for letting my guard down.” Seeing Cersei's puzzled expression, she elaborated. “He was being nice, helping me work out my frustrations.” Still confused. “Maybe it's a jock thing.”

Cersei had noticed that Brienne and Jaime had been getting along better recently. This was a step in a weird direction, though. She wasn't sure what it meant. Speaking of weird directions: “I have a quick question for you. Yara asked if I wanted come to drinks with her this weekend. Was she flirting with me?”

“Definitely.” Brienne didn't even need to think about it. Yara would flirt with a half-assembled mannequin.

Cersei had thought so, but...“Doesn't she think I'm dating you?”

“Yeah, that makes it more fun for her.”

“Is she trying to get fired? You may need to scale back your severance packages.”

“She knows I wouldn't fire her over that.” Brienne adopted a sappy romantic voice. “If she was able to steal your heart from me, my dear, I would honorably bow out.”

“Oh god, you would.” Cersei regarded her with pity. “I would destroy her, if the tables were turned.”

Brienne laughed, “No, you've got to maintain your integrity no matter what happens.”

Cersei didn't laugh along. “I say, anything worth fighting for is worth fighting dirty for.”

  
  


Yara was squicked out by what she had to relate. She'd tried shifting through the mounds of financial data but there was nothing there. So, she's looked elsewhere, and hacked right into a scene from a horror novel.

“Okay, so I don't have much. His finances are sparkling, believe it or not. I reckon if I went back more years I might find something, but that's off statute of limitations so it's not that helpful. He's refiled almost everything from the last seven years.”

“Of course,” Cersei said, “I should have realized. He knew he'd be researched when he started his presidential campaign. He's made sure it all passes vetting now.”

“Like you said, there's a lot of leads about girls, but really who gives a shit? It's not illegal.” But man, there were a lot of girls. This guy was a dog; Yara was almost impressed.

“You have a folder for us, though,” Brienne prompted her.

“Yep. They tape all the calls Blacksel prisoners receive, and transcribe 'em. This is a copy of a call between your Robert and ex-Dr. Qyburn.”

“What?”

“They talk about Qyburn's program, he called it. Twenty four babies, you know, though he was trying for more. Robert asks about you specifically, Cersei, and Qyburn gets real excited. He says you were the main test subject. Everyone else was just for phase two. But the, um, interbreeding of the perfect specimens was what he most wanted to see. He begged Robert to get DNA on Tommen so he could compare it with you and your brother's and see how much foreign DNA he still had to breed out. He's a sick, sick man. Apparently phase two was going to somehow involve arranging the phase one subjects to have babies together. He thinks if they keep going, they'll reach perfection. His psych records say he's got a real fixation on the Lannisters.” She was _really_ not supposed to have psych records, but curiosity got the better of her (almost certainly the epigraph for her tombstone).

“So he has me. He knows about Jaime. If I keep going with the divorce, he'll expose all of us. Tom would never be able to have a normal life.”

“He hasn't used it yet. Maybe he has some core of decency. And don't forget, you are in no way to blame for any of it,” Brienne reminded her.

“I'm sure he's saving it for a tactical surprise. It will be scorched earth.”

“Hey, maybe that's what he's afraid of. All the sex bullshit we could release. Wouldn't help your case much but would probably make him unelectable,” Yara said.

“Yara might be right. The best strategy might be for you to talk to him directly. If you can sort out what each of you really wants, maybe nothing has to go public.”

“Yeah, and in the meantime, I can keep looking.” Lowering her voice to a purr, Yara asked, “Let me know?” when Brienne's back was turned.

  
  


After dinner, Jaime had meant to talk with Brienne, but she'd disappeared. For such a big woman, she could certainly make herself unobtrusive. He supposed that made her a good bodyguard back in the day. He was getting used to her routines, though, and found her in the gym lifting weights. God. Well, it wasn't like he could expect her to turn all girly just because he wanted to ask her out. He suspected it'd be easier to change the course of a river than this woman's habits.

Brienne noticed Jaime was watching her and turned to face him. She must look a wreck, sweaty, red-faced, stinking. She had to remind herself not to care. He was a guest in her home; she didn't have to alter her schedule.

He tried his most winning smile. “I've figured out what your problem is. Why you're still single.”

She rolled her eyes. “My aren't we feeling arrogant tonight? You don't saunter up to someone and tell them their shortcomings.”

“That's just it, see, you're not arrogant enough.”

“I – what? You know that being arrogant isn't a good thing.” Though it was worth considering that maybe he didn't.

“Proud, then. You're not proud enough. You don't let everyone know how awesome you are. You expect them to figure it out, and most people are dumb as bricks. I was fooled by your company's name – Evenstar. I thought that meant you knew how you looked.”

“I do know how I look. What are you talking about?” _If he's trying to call me ugly, I mean, it's not like that's difficult right now._

“The eveningstar. Venus. The goddess of beauty and love.”

Flummoxed, Brienne tried to recall what she'd told others about the name. “My father named the company, not me. It's from navigation; it connotes reliability, stability. Nothing to do with the goddess.”

“Then you don't know how you look? Describe yourself, your physical appearance.”

“Huge, odd-looking, intimidating.”

“Statuesque, striking, independent. See? You suck at self-promotion.”

“Do you want me to hire you for a job in PR?” _He has got the weirdest twinkle in his eye. Is he high?_

“No, I want you to go out with me. I'd like to get to know you better. Maybe relieve you of that pesky virginity.”

Brienne's brain seemed to freeze, but she was aware that time hadn't. She blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “You want to do something in public with me?”

“Yeah! I'd happily do you in public,” Jamie playfully batted back.

“That's not even close to what I meant.” _Jesus Christ, is he serious? I think he's serious. And not high._ “Okay, we can try it. I mean, date,” she added hastily, now unwilling to leave a pronoun undefined. “Does this mean you'll finally stop teasing me about dating your sister. Because, honestly, there's never been anything but friendship there.”

“Yes, of course I know that. Believe me, I'd keep my distance if you were ever hers. She'd destroy me.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**May**  
Cersei arrived at the meeting with two folders stuffed into her purse, one fat (containing evidence of Robert's indiscretions) and one thin (containing his discussion with Qyburn). She'd insisted they meet alone, no lawyers, bodyguards, or even best friends. They'd have one final shot at sorting out their lives before the divorce petition became public knowledge.

“Robert.” She'd traveled all the way to his table through the crowded, but somehow still exclusive, restaurant before he noticed her.

He stood slowly, perhaps reluctantly. “Cersei.”

He looked fat, old, and not entirely well, Cersei thought. She pulled out her chair and sat.

“How have you been?” he asked, seat squeaking at it resumed carrying his weight.

“I'm doing well, as is Tom. We're staying with a friend of mine who has a child Tom's age. But you know that.”

“She's an odd duck. Takes all kinds, I suppose. Was this her idea?” he asked, tapping a copy of the divorce filing on the table in front of him.

 _Robert had a certain amount of cunning,_ Cersei realized. _He wonders how I thought to escape the trap he and Father built for me._ “I listen to good ideas, even from other people.”

“Her's is one of that doctor's?” he mumbled.

“Yes.”

“I hate how things worked out, I really do. But I even can't look at him, Cersei. It's not just that he's not mine. It's that he's _obviously_ not mine, but he _is_ yours. He's the opposite of me: tow-headed, pale, green eyed. We even know exactly what he's going to look like when he's grown. It's too much. I wish we had adopted.”

 _It's a dominance thing,_ Cersei thought in disgust. _He can't stand that it looks like my genes were stronger than his. What a weak and ridiculous man._

“I just want to have a clean break and start again with my son. I don't want to soil your name with any oppo research. I don't want to paint a bad picture of you in the press. Let's have this over, peacefully.”

“Doesn't matter what you want or don't want. If you break up our marriage, 'Baratheon for Families' goes out the window. Here's what you do: name a state. Any one. I'll buy you a house. You and Tom start over there, do whatever. When the campaign gets hot and heavy, we ask for privacy for the boy's sake, and leave him in school while you come out to rallies with me. You're good at it, Cersei. You've got that elegance the money men like. Come on, we make a great team.”

“No, Robert, we really don't. There are some points you haven't considered, you know.”

  


Brienne wanted to show that she could look like a woman, do womanly things, and generally, given her past experiences, drive home the concept of 'woman'. Jaime knew that she wasn't usually interested in conventionally girly activities, so her resistance to his more athletic date ideas confused him. They argued with escalating vehemence, to the point that both became unsure if they even wanted to go through with it.

Finally, Brienne decided to lay her cards on the table. “Listen, I would love to go the batting cages, or do a puzzle room, or see a game with you. We'd have fun, but we wouldn't really get to know each other. I just want to have some nice dinner conversation, one on one. I promise I have dresses that hide all this.” She gestured around her shoulders and torso. “You won't feel like you're having dinner with a man in a dress.”

Jaime gaped for a second wondering how he could have been so misunderstood. Probably, he reflected, the thousand times he'd teased her about her appearance had something to do with it, but there was no time to delve into that now. “I don't want you to hide it. If you must know, I want you to flaunt it. Come to dinner with me in jeans and a tank top and I guarantee you my undivided attention.”

“Where would we be going, dressed like that?”

“Anywhere we want. I'm Jaime Lannister.”

 _Arrogant shithead._ “Alright.”

  


In Brienne's mind, the deal had been 'if he doesn't say anything too stupid during dinner, we'll have sex'. Jaime hadn't realized the bar was set quite that low, so he was caught unprepared by her forwardness once they returned home. What he'd intended as a goodnight kiss quickly progressed to a clear invitation to the master bedroom. He growled at having to break the contact.

“Can we take a ten minute time out? I'm going to have to run to the drugstore. I didn't bring any protection, and I still have a few swimmers left.”

“Oh! It's no problem. I actually have a bunch of condoms in the bathroom.”

“Hope springs eternal, huh? Or have you and Cersei gotten into drug smuggling?”

“No, she bought them as a … personal growth exercise.”

“That seems like something I didn't want to know.”

“It's nothing dirty; it was just like, a dare.” Her voice started to tighten up as it hit home that she was really going to give this another shot.

Jaime retrieved the necessary equipment and followed her into her bedroom, making sure to lock the door. He didn't want any curious kids or housemates investigating the fascinating noises he hoped to wring out of her.

She managed to get herself most of the way undressed already. He'd have to show her how much fun being inefficient could be one of these days. He could tell she was trying to hide her nerves, so he made her watch him strip, trying to get her to laugh. He resolved to take it slow and make this special for her. They kissed again as they hit the sheets. He slid off her underwear, his own arousal now impossible to hide. That was one problem with taking it slow; not every part of your body got the message.

Jaime's hand dipped below her waist. “I'm going to use my fingers to get you ready.”

“No,” she said going a bit tense.

“It helps. You'll like it,” he promised.

“No,” she repeated more firmly. _Was she changing her mind?_

“We can stop. I mean it. We don't have to do anything.”

Brienne was sure he knew what he was doing far better than she did, but they'd reached the crux of her insecurity. “Please, you have an erection. Can we use that before you lose it?”

“Hey, I may only have one ball, but I assure you there's no trouble in that department. It will be there when you're ready for it.”

“It's happened to me before. Guys got so carried away with the foreplay that they couldn't finish. I'd just as soon cut to the chase if you don't mind. I'm ready now. I'm...eager.”

He looked into her big, blue eyes, now dark and lusty. _Nope, zero erection problems here. Longevity might become an issue though. Maybe she had a point._ He kissed her neck and positioned himself between her legs. “Yes, ma'am.”

He was at her entrance, then smoothly pushed in further. It was as simple as that. Brienne almost laughed. There were ridges on the condom; she could feel them moving inside of her. It kind of tickled.

“How does that feel.”

“Good.”

“I can do better than good. Hold on.”

He readusted, and she felt a scrub that she'd call pleasant. Still seemingly unsatisfied with her reaction, he urged her legs further apart. She then felt about three feet of penis plunge inside. _It can't be that big; it just feels large because it's, well, inside of me._ It was enjoyable, the fullness, and it certainly didn't hurt, but she couldn't quite understand the hype.

He pulled back a little and something happened. Her breath caught and she clenched down. That was...new.

“Oh, it's way in the back,” Jaime sounded a little relieved. “Good thing you saved yourself for me. Most guys couldn't reach it.”

“You are so arr-ah!” It happened again. So, it was more than hype.

“It will feel even better if you let me touch your clit.”

“Okay,” she said, though she couldn't imagine- “Aah-aaahh!!”

“Right there. Just like a little bull's eye.”

'Oh God, Jamie' came out as “Guhh!” and she realized further conversation was going to have to wait.

  


Cersei counted 17 points of strangeness between Jaime and Brienne during breakfast: he left a hand too long on her shoulder, she poured him a glass of orange juice right along with the kids', they weren't fighting, then, they were fighting but it was him teasing her about the shape of some freckles that showed he'd paid way too much attention to her body. It kept going as the kids went off to preschool. Finally, she had to say something.

“What is going on between you two? Did one of you finally pin the other down during one of those sparring sessions of yours?”

“No, but there's an idea,” Jaime said grinning.

“We went on a date last night,” Brienne said a bit shyly.

“And finished it this morning.” Jaime's grin turned feral.

“We didn't do anything this morning.” Brienne was always fond of accuracy, especially when it gave her the opportunity to be contrary.

“It was past midnight by the time we were done. Exhausted. Sated.”

Brienne showed her embarrassment by blushing hugely, then a smile broke through.

“Holy. Shit. Good for you. And better for him,” Cersei said in Brienne's direction. She swiped a fork toward Jaime with a 'be good to her' glare.

“How did, um, your night go? I know you were going to meet with Robert,” Brienne asked.

“Not nearly as well as yours,” Cersei teased. “I did talk to Robert, though. We came to an agreement about the incriminating material. It's understood we have mutually assured destruction. We'll each keep it locked away as insurance. He agreed not to challenge me for custody. I convinced him that messing with Tywin Lannister's only acknowledged grandchild would not be good for his prospects or his pocketbook.” She and Jaime both wondered if their father knew how many little half-Lannisters were running around out there. They certainly weren't going to tell him.

“That sounds perfect, Cersei! Did anything go wrong?” Brienne asked.

“Well, eventually we started talking politics. He's been listening to all the wrong people and absorbed some bad ideas. Then we were yelling. I may have said I could do his job better than he could. Long story short, I need to collect some signatures. I only have 30 days before the filing deadline for the senate race.”

  


**June**  
About a month into their relationship – Brienne still got weird shivers thinking of it that way – Jaime pulled her aside for a talk. He looked serious, which was a concern. He could talk about most anything with glib confidence.

“I told my dad about you,” he said. “I even told him Gale was mine.”

Brienne's brow furrowed. She rather didn't understand why a 35 year old man needed to tell his father about his girlfriend, but okay.

“He doesn't approve. He thinks I need a better connected wife if I'm going to run the Lannister Foundation someday. It's all politics, and who-knows-who, you understand. Your family are just people; they're not important.”

“Oh. So you-” Her stomach was in free-fall, insecurities clawing their way out of their graves. _No! It was going so well!_

“So I told him to go fuck himself. Oh God, it felt so good! I'm surprised you didn't come, in pure psychic synchronicity. Wait, did you – about 11:15am this morning? Maybe sitting at your desk, all of a sudden your back arches?”

She shook her head, more in confusion than really answering the question.

“I've never once in my life stood up to him. I'm mad with the possibilities. I could go to the college I actually wanted to attend. We could have sex without condoms – well, maybe. I got tested; I'm at about about 25% of normal sperm count. Depends on how much of a gambler you are. I could run with scissors; I've heard that's sweet.”

“Can you slow down for a second? You – you do want to keep seeing each other?”

“God, I hope Gale got my brains. Yes, of course. Ha! Dad was not happy to hear that. At all! No offense. He's an asshole. Where I get it from, I guess.”

“I don't suppose he was proud of your newfound backbone.”

“Noooo indeed. I'm out of a job. Disinherited until I come to my senses. I don't suppose there's an opening at Evenstar? I don't mind starting at the bottom, so long as our shifts line up.”

“Yeah, I can find an opening for you,” she teased giddily.

  


**July**  
“Mommy, is Jaime my daddy?” Gale asked. She always thought of the most inconvenient questions at bedtime.

Brienne floundered about how to answer that for a second, eventually deciding on the truth. “Yes, sweetie, he is.”

“Neat! Are you going to marry him?”

“Maybe someday. Would you like that?” It was a little early to be thinking in that direction yet, but she supposed it didn't hurt to give the idea some room to breathe.

“Yeah! Me and Cersei looked at dresses. She said I'll be a flower girl and Tom will be a ring bear. What's a ring bear?”

“Bearer. It just means carrier,” Brienne said absently. _What the fuck?_ She called down to the first floor, “Cersei, c'mere a second?”

“Yes?” Cersei came into Gale's room, looking down to avoid toys by hard won experience.

“Have you by any chance been planning my wedding?”

“That was supposed to be a secret,” Cersei chided Gale.

“I only told about the dress,” the little girl giggled.

“A surprise wedding?”

“Well, you two are taking forever. It can't hurt to make a few plans.”

“We've only known each other for three months. And we spent most of the first month fighting.”

“You have to schedule at least a year in advance.”

“No, I don't want a formal...wait, why am I talking to you about it? Jaime hasn't mentioned the first word on the subject.”

“Not to you...”

 _Now why would he...oh, of course._ “Which of you picked out my engagement ring?”

Gale giggled and Cersei high-fived her. “Teamwork! Though he was quite insistent it had to have sapphires.”

“Please at least hint to him that I hate public proposals. He's such a show-off.”

“He has met you. I think he picked up on that by now. Sorry the surprise got spoiled.” Cersei tickled Gale under her chin. “Can I still be maid of honor?”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

  


**September**  
Cersei's senior campaign staff gathered for a strategic planning session. They had been frantically scrambling to play catch up in her bid to unseat Robert. The incumbent had the usual advantages of name recognition and inertia, but he'd gotten overconfident. Without directly shaming Robert, Cersei had managed to set forth a convincing narrative of how deep soul searching had caused her to switch parties and challenge her former husband. She currently led in the polls, though she was sure to remind them all it was within the margin of error.

Yara scowled as Jaime put an arm around Brienne's shoulder in an obviously more than friendly way.

Once he'd gone, she scolded, “You're fucking her brother? Dude!” Apparently even Yara considered that a foul.

“It was always him. She was just living with us because her marriage was breaking up.” That was about as close to the truth as Yara was capable of understanding, Brienne figured.

“All right,” Yara sulked, “I guess he's gorgeous, too. Less fun to flirt with though; he don't look anywhere but at you.”

Pod gave a terrible presentation of excellently organized data. _Win or lose, next time he's getting an assistant_ , Cersei decided, not noticing that she was casually planning out the next several years for everyone in the room.

Jaime rallied everyone to their most important tasks. Cersei had her campaign events, of course. Brienne was to arrange for security for the venues. Pod should carry on collecting and analyzing demographic data. Yara should evaluate voting machines for vulnerabilities and prepare schemas for evaluating exit polling data.

Reading her underling's mind, Brienne broke in. “Yara! No hacking voting machines yourself. I love you, Cersei, but I'd rather not be an accessory to treason.”

“Yeah, of course not, boss,” the hacker said, surreptitiously deleting an item from her to-do list.

“Keep her busy on election day, just in case,” Brienne muttered in Pod's ear.

Tywin Lannister had been taken aback by his daughter's sudden interest in politics. It had caused him some inconvenience. He'd had to call in a favor to get her an honorary degree from a college that would have been worthy for her to attend while not so spectacular as to draw attention. Transferring his campaign donations from Robert to his daughter had been simple enough, though that did mean he was paying Jaime again. Ah well, if her pig-headed brother wanted to be her campaign manager, he could live with it. At least his granddaughter had some charm, despite her freakish mother. Perhaps he'd send her a present for her upcoming birthday. Something small...like a pony.

  


**October/November**  
Brienne and Jaime had presented a united front in demanding a fall wedding. Cersei hated having to rush what should be such a glamorous affair. With the campaign and all, however, she had to turn it over to a wedding planner. He did fine, although she would have gone with butterflies and orchids, to be a little less expected. It worked out for the best, though, as Brienne disclosed a positive pregnancy test a week before the ceremony. “Margin of error,” Cersei shrugged.

The kids had been allowed to stay up way past their bedtimes to hear Cersei's victory speech. They chased each other, weaving under the tables and occasionally through the legs of her supporters. Brienne linked arms with her backstage. She was exhausted; the campaign felt like it'd lasted six years rather than six months.

“No wonder Robert crashed and burned without you. This is hard work. You're going to need to find someone spouse-like to pick up the slack, preferably before Jaime and I disappear into the void that comes with dealing with a newborn.”

“I've been meaning to mention, I do have a bit of a romance brewing with someone on your staff.”

“Really? Who, if you don't mind my asking?” Brienne said with some trepidation.

“Syrio. It turns out we have a lot in common, and you know, I've always loved Italians. We're taking it slow until the divorce is final.”

“Oh thank God. I was afraid it was Yara. I mean, she can be sweet, but you don't need that kind of chaos in your life right now.” A wicked grin spread across Brienne's face. “Is there any way I could be the one to tell Tywin that you're dating the help?”

“Trying to ingratiate yourself by getting me into trouble? If you're going to act like such a Lannister you should have taken his last name.”

“He likes me now,” Brienne protested. It had been a process, but Brienne's good nature, sure-handed treatment of Jaime, and probably most significantly, fertility had won Tywin over. Not every woman could get pregnant through a low sperm count.

“I'm happy for you. Just tell Tywin that you don't get to choose who you love. He's heard it before,” Brienne said.

 _You choose your friends, though,_ Cersei thought _, and I'm very glad I chose you._

 


End file.
